“For the matter of that, why didn’t Rush tell us?”
Peter laughed.
“Did Rush give you the impression that he would tell you anything he could possibly help? If he made a statement, I bet you had to drag it out of him word by word, whereas Mrs. Green is definitely one of the chatty kind. So why this reticence about that very important key? Do you know, I’m beginning to wonder whether she pinched it herself.”
The Inspector’s eyebrows rose a fraction.
“And I’m beginning to wonder whether that key was ever pinched at all. Rush says it was now, but he’s taken a good long time to think that story up. He says he reminded Mr. Craddock about the loss when they were quarrelling, but Mrs. Green, who was listening to their quarrel, doesn’t say anything about a key. I’ll have her asked the direct question, but to my mind Rush is trying to put this key story over to clear himself of suspicion about Mr. Craddock’s papers.”
Peter got up.
“Well, I think that’s bunk. And bad psychology. Rush is a crusty old cobblestone, but he’s neither a thief, a blackmailer, nor, if you’re interested, a murderer. I’ve known him since I was three years old, and if it comes to taking his word against that eavesdropping wet blanket of a Mrs. Green, well, I’d do it every time.”
The bell of the telephone on the desk punctuated this remark. The Inspector made no attempt to answer Mr. Renshaw. He put the receiver to his ear, listened for a moment, and then said, “Put her through.” A faint, shrill sound became audible. Peter, uncertain whether to go or stay, heard it like the thin ghost of a woman’s voice a long way off. He thought the lady was agitated, and he thought she was in the duce of a hurry, but he caught no words. The Inspector said, “Yes, that will be all right. I’d like you to come along here at once if you will… Yes, I was wanting to see you… No, we’ll look after you-you needn’t be frightened.” There was a rustling and a squeaking on the line. The Inspector gave a deep, hearty laugh. “What-in broad daylight? Nonsense! You come right along and don’t worry.” There were more agitated sounds from the telephone. The Inspector said, “Now, now-you come right along and we’ll talk about it.” He hung up and looked across at Peter.
“That,” he said, “was Mrs. Green, and she’s scared to death.”
“What’s she got to be scared about?”
“She says she’s got something on her mind-something she held back and didn’t tell because she was afraid to. She was talking from a call-box at Charing Cross, and you heard me tell her to come right along.”
Peter thought, “And what am I expected to say to that? You’re looking at me very hard, my good Lamb. I wonder what that dreep of a woman was bleating into your ear just now. And which would look more like a guilty conscience, a request to stay and meet the lady, or a simple manly disposition to mind my own business and leave you to get on with your job?” He decided on the latter course, was aware of the inspectorial eye upon him even to the door, and walked down a long corridor with the feeling that it was still boring into his spine.
Chapter XXXIV
Peter walked back to Craddock House. It took him an hour because he sat for a while in St. James’s Park and thought intensively about a number of things which had been disturbing his mind for the last hour or two. One of these things was so preposterous that it gave him a sensation of giddiness whenever he contemplated it. He therefore got up, walked on, and tried to think about getting married to Lee and taking her six thousand miles away from Scotland Yard. It was a paradisiacal prospect, but he failed to invest it with even a semblance of reality. And once more, up from the troubled waters of his mind, there bobbed the perfectly preposterous idea-fantastic and elusive as the sea-serpent and as tenacious of its mythical existence.
He got home and was met by Lee on the landing.
“Peter, I thought you were never coming. The Pet Lamb has been ringing up from Scotland Yard-twice.”
Peter felt cold about the feet. He said, “What did he want?” and Lee pulled him into the hall and shut the door. Even then she spoke in a whisper.
“He wanted to know whether Rush was at home-Rush, Peter. And when I said no, he always had Saturday afternoon and evening off-you know he goes to see Ellen and her husband, and a sort of cousin person comes in to sit with Mrs. Rush-the Lamb asked when he would be in, and I said half past ten, because he always puts Mrs. Rush to bed then. And then he wanted to know whether you had got back.”
“When was this?”
“About twenty minutes ago. And he said please would I go down and get him Ellen’s address from Mrs. Rush, so I did. And about five minutes ago he rang up again and wanted to know whether you had come in-and don’t you think you’d better ring him up?”
“No, I’m hanged if I do!” said Peter. He laughed angrily. “Let’s hope that’s not an omen. If you ask me, I think we’re going stark, staring mad, and that old Lamb will probably finish up by arresting us all.”
“What does he want?” said Lee in a frightened voice.
“I can’t imagine-I was with him an hour ago. But I know what I want, and that’s a long, cold drink. Also I want to talk to Lucinda-presently, when I feel strong enough. Oh, I suppose I had better get old Lamb over first.”
Lee stood waiting whilst he rang up and was put through. She waited for Peter to speak, but after he had given his name and said, “I hear you rang me up,” all the talk seemed to be coming from the other end of the line. She saw Peter’s eyebrows go up, and at last she heard him say, “Yes, I suppose it took me about an hour. I sat in the Park for a bit.” There was another interval. Then Peter said pleasantly, “One isn’t always thinking about an alibi, you know,” and then, after a hiatus, “I suppose you’ll arrest me on the spot if I tell you to go and boil your head… Yes, I thought as much, so perhaps I won’t do it after all. Am I allowed a quotation instead-from Alexander and Mose? ‘Clarify yo’self, boy-clarify yo’self.’ ” He jabbed the receiver back upon its hook, turned a pale, determined countenance on Lee and said,
“Lamb really has gone off the deep end. He seems to think that (a) Rush, (b) I, or (c) Rush and I, have abducted Mrs. Green.”
Lee stared back. It must be a joke, but she began to feel frightened. She said, “Why?” and Peter came and put an arm round her waist.
“An elopement with Mrs. Green sounds grim, doesn’t it?”
“Is it a joke? I-I don’t like it very much.”
“No, it’s not a joke. He’s quite serious. You see, when I was with him just now Mrs. Green rang up from a call-box at Charing Cross. She said she’d got something to tell-about Ross’s murder-and old Lamb told her to come right along and spill the beans. I’m piecing it together from what I heard and what he told me. He kept saying that they would look after her and she needn’t be frightened, and then she said another piece, and he told her again to come right along. And then he rang off, and looked at me very hard and said, ‘That was Mrs. Green, and she’s scared to death.’ And he told me she’d got something on her mind-something she hadn’t told before because she was afraid.”
“Yes-” said Lee rather faintly, because the frightened feeling was getting worse.
“Well, now he says Mrs. Green never turned up. She was speaking from Charing Cross over an hour ago, and she never turned up. It couldn’t possibly have taken her more than ten minutes to get to Scotland Yard, but she never turned up. After about half an hour or so he sent a minion down to where she lives. The minion has just rung up, and there’s no sign of her either at the house where she lodges or at the local pub which, I gather, sees a good deal of her in her off time. Lamb says she was all set to come and see him, and if she didn’t come, why didn’t she? And he’s got an answer all ready, because she told him she was afraid of being done in. And by whom? Answer quite pat again, because she told him that too. By Rush, and by me. So if Mrs. Green has by any chance come to a sticky end, Lamb will probably do his best to hang us both.”